well get out."

Mr. Jolly was a comfortable-looking little man, smooth and sleek, pleasant
and plausible, reasonably honest too, as the world goes; a nice man to
have to do with, the world went so easy with his affairs that you were
sure he would make no unnecessary rubs in your own. He came now fresh and
brisk to the side of the wagon, with that uncommon hilarity which people
sometimes assume when they have a disagreeable matter on hand that must be
spoken of.

"Good-morning, sir! Fine day, Mr. Jolly."

"Beautiful day, sir! Splendid season! How do you do, Mr. Ringgan?"

"Why, sir, I never was better in my life, barring this lameness, that
disables me very much. I can't go about and see to things any more as I
used to. However--we must expect evils at my time of life. I don't
complain. I have a great deal to be thankful for."

"Yes, sir,--we have a great deal to be thankful for," said Mr. Jolly
rather abstractedly, and patting the old mare with kind attention.

"Have you seen that fellow McGowan?" said Mr. Ringgan abruptly, and in a
lower tone.

"I have seen him," said Mr. Jolly, coming back from the old mare to
business.

"He's a hard customer I guess, ain't he?"